


The Matchmaking Cat

by Persiflage



Series: Cousy Fest 2k17 [10]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bisexual Daisy Johnson, Cats, Comfort Food, Cousy Fest 2k17, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Mentions of Coulson/Price, Mentions of Meldrew, Mentions of Trimons, Mentions of past Daisy/Elena, Mentions of past Daisy/Trip, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson's Prosthetic Hand, Wall Sex, mentions of Mackelena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 22:18:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10523043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: AU: Daisy Johnson meets her neighbour Phil Coulson as a result of his cat's matchmaking.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cousy Fest 2k17 for the Day 7 prompt 'Free theme'.

"My cat only keeps coming to your apartment because you feed him, you know. It’s like you’re encouraging him on purpose."

Daisy raises her eyebrows at the cute older guy from apartment 44. He's just scooped up his cat (a grey and white beauty named Cap for what she suspects are totally nerdy reasons) as Cap had accompanied her to the door of her apartment when she went to answer his knock.

"And did you consider that there might be a reason for me purposefully encouraging him?" she asks in a teasing tone.

He frowns at her, and she decides she must be far gone because even the frown makes him look cute – there's a little crease between his eyebrows that she longs to reach out and smooth away with her thumb.

"No," he says, looking baffled by the idea.

She chuckles. "As you're here, why don't you come in and have a coffee, and we can discuss your cat, and his issues."

To her relief #44 only hesitates for a moment before coming inside. Cap leaps from his arms and trots along the hallway with all the confidence of a regular visitor. At the kitchen door, Cap glances back and flirts his tail, uttering a little mew, as if to say, 'Well hurry up', then disappears through the doorway.

"Someone's made themselves far too at home," #44 observes.

Daisy chuckles again. "He's welcome, and so are you."

She ushers him into the kitchen ahead of her, her hand resting lightly against his lower back for a moment. She can feel solid muscle there, which intrigues her because he looks like a high school teacher in his glasses, button down shirt and pressed slacks with knife-sharp creases, but she says nothing further than, "How do you take your coffee?"

"Black, one sugar. Thanks."

She nods, then moves over to the coffee maker, watching from the corner of her eye as he looks around her kitchen with undisguised curiosity, no doubt taking in the clean, simple décor and furnishings.

"Here," she says, and passes him a mug of black coffee, then gestures at the table. "Take a seat."

"Thanks."

"I'm Daisy, by the way, Daisy Johnson." She holds out her hand, and he shakes – a firm handshake, she notices, but not crushing.

"Phil. Phil Coulson." Cap leaps up onto the table, and he scoops him up. "And you've met Cap, clearly."

She smirks. "Yeah, Phil, I've met Cap. Do you know _how_ I met Cap, though?"

He does the cute frowny thing again, then shakes his head. "No. I just assumed he came to your door and you took it into your head to let him in and started feeding him."

She shakes her head. "Nope. Your boy there decided to visit me when I was sitting out on my balcony, having a working lunch. He leapt across from your balcony to mine and pretty much landed in my lap."

He scoops Cap up from where he's cradling the cat in his lap, turns Cap to face him, and says sternly, "You ridiculous cat, you could've been killed."

"Exactly what I told him," Daisy says, not even remotely surprised to discover Phil talks to Cap in the same way she does – as if the cat understands every word. "Anyway, I gave him a bit of my tuna sandwich for surviving the great leap – I mean, we are eight floors up – and he's been visiting me ever since."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Phil asks curiously.

"I came by a couple of times," she says, "but you were out – well, actually, I think you were away, which I suspect is why Cap came visiting." 

He sets the cat back in his lap, then rubs his right hand over his face. "Thanks for keeping an eye on him," he says. "I'm sorry if I was abrupt with you before."

"It's okay," she says, and dares to reach across the corner of the table to touch his forearm. His pale blue denim button down is as soft as it looks, and she can't quite stop herself from rubbing her hand up and down his arm for a moment. "Are you okay, though?"

"Getting there," he says, and she suspects he wouldn't be as open about this, whatever this is, if he wasn't so obviously exhausted.

"Can I help?" she asks, and he gives her a startled look.

After a moment's hesitation, he asks, "Would you mind having Cap here for a couple of days?"

"Of course not."

He nods. "I have to go back into the hospital for some further adjustments to – " He pauses and she barely has time to wonder what he's not saying before he unbuttons the left sleeve of his shirt and pushes it up to just past his elbow, revealing a – well, she's not entirely sure what it is on his arm. "My lower arm and hand's a prosthetic," he tells her. "This bit – " He touches the band of metal around his arm. "That's where the prosthetic docks with my stump." 

She swallows hard, biting back a protest as he twists his left arm and pulls the lower part away. Before she can speak, after one swift glance at her face – and she wonders what her face is doing right at this moment – he reconnects it.

"Sorry about that," he says, in a voice of patently false cheer. "It's easier to show than explain."

"What happened, Phil?" she asks in a low voice, wrapping her hand around his right wrist.

"Car accident," he says. "My left hand and lower arm were crushed, they basically had to cut my arm off to get me free. My – uh – my date was killed."

"God, Phil, I'm so sorry." Daisy feels pretty crushed herself. "That's why you weren't here," she says. "Why Cap came visiting."

He nods. "I asked my neighbour to feed him, but as a nurse, she's pretty busy herself, and I guess she missed him one time."

"Oh, you mean Claire?" Daisy asks brightly, and his face is transformed by a wide smile. 

"You know Claire?"

"Sure. We meet at the gym downstairs sometimes."

He nods. "Well, if you wouldn't mind looking after Cap, I needn't burden Claire with it. I mean, I assumed you work from home since you mentioned having a working lunch on your balcony, but – "

"Phil, it's fine," she tells him. "I'd love to have Cap stay while you're in hospital. Just bring me whatever of his stuff you think he'll need."

"Thank you."

"Do you need someone to drive you to the hospital, or pick you up afterwards?"

"I can get a cab," he says.

"Okay." She'd like to push it, like to insist that he let her accompany him, but she's not the sort to put herself forward, and since they've only just met (even if they have been 'sharing' Cap for quite a few weeks), she feels it would be even more rude of her to get pushy. "If there's anything else I can do for you, just let me know."

"Thanks." He pulls out his cell phone and asks for her number, which she gives him, and he types it in, then sends her a text so that she's got his number too.

"I'll bring Cap and his stuff over in a couple of days, in the evening, if that's okay."

"Sure, Phil. I'll be here."

He nods, then scoops the cat up in his left arm, and holds out his right hand. She shakes hands, then dares to lean in and briefly press her lips to his cheek. One eyebrow arches, even as Cap begins to purr loudly.

"What was that for?" Phil asks, sounding bemused.

"Good luck," she tells him.

He shakes his head slightly, then precedes her into the hall, and she follows him, taking a moment to stroke Cap's head before Phil walks down the hallway, then around the corner towards his own apartment.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Cap settles into her life with a greater ease than Daisy herself ever managed as a child when moving in with a new foster family, and she does her best not to wonder too often how Phil's getting on at the hospital. On the second morning that he's been gone, Daisy bumps into Claire in the apartment building's basement gym, and they chat as they use the machines together.

"I hear you're cat-sitting for my neighbour," Claire observes, and Daisy grins.

"Yeah. Cap had already befriended me, so Phil decided to ask me to look after him while he's in the hospital."

Claire nods. "He's a sweet guy."

"You been neighbours long?" Daisy asks curiously. She herself has only been in New York for a year, and has only lived in this building for two months.

"Six months," Claire tells her. "I think he's been here a couple of years."

"What happened to him is awful," she says. She's not gossiping or prying, she swears, she's just concerned for the guy.

"What did he tell you about the accident?" Claire asks.

"Not much," Daisy says with a quick shrug. "He just said his date hadn't survived and that they'd had to cut off his arm to free him from the wreck."

"His date was driving and she was shot by a guy with a sniper rifle – the shooter was the ex-boyfriend of Ros, that's Phil's date."

Daisy swears under her breath at this revelation. "No wonder he seems so traumatised," she says softly.

Claire nods. "He has nightmares – I can hear him sometimes through the joining wall of our apartments."

"I should think he's suffering from full-blown PTSD," Daisy observes, and Claire nods again.

"He nearly bled out before they could cut him free of the wreck."

"Geez," Daisy says inadequately. 

"I've gently tried to get him to see a therapist, but so far he's resisted."

Daisy nods, and Claire stops her treadmill, picks up her bottle of water, and drinks some, then glances at the big clock at the far end of the room. "I'd better go. I need to shower and change before I head to work."

"Stay safe," Daisy tells her, because she knows Claire works in the ER and it can get pretty manic in there. 

Claire waggles her fingers in a wave, then heads out, and Daisy concentrates on finishing up her own workout, but as she's showering in her apartment a bit later, she thinks about what Claire said, and she decides to give an old friend a call. 

When Phil gets back from the hospital on the fourth day after going in, Daisy goes to see him, bringing Cap with her. He opens the door and gives her a rather shaky smile, then invites her in. He looks pretty strung out, she thinks, and she immediately gently insists on making the coffee he's offered her.

"Sit down, Phil," she says, and when he does, Cap instantly leaps onto his lap and begins purring very loudly. He directs her to the cabinet containing the mugs, and the location of the coffee beans, and she concentrates on making the coffee, sneaking looks at him from the corner of her eye as she works.

"You look like you could use a month in bed," she observes when she sets their mugs down on the table.

"I feel like it," he says, and curls his right hand around the mug. 

"Listen, I don't want to poke my nose in where it's not wanted, but could I make you dinner? I'm not up to anything flashy, but I can manage basics."

"That's very sweet of you Daisy, but I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't," she says, touching her hand to his wrist. "I offered."

He looks as if he's going to refuse again, but then he says, "Yeah, okay. Thanks."

"Good. Why don't you take your coffee into the other room and I'll see what you've got in, and then I'll rustle up something for you?"

"For us," he says firmly. "That is – well, I'd like you to stay and eat with me, if that's okay."

"I'd like that," she assures him, and watches as he makes his way into the sitting room. Once she's sure he's settled she takes a look in the fridge, freezer, and cabinets, then assembles some things together on the counter, and putting on his stereo with the volume turned down low, she sets to work.

Half an hour later she looks in on him to see if he wants more coffee, and to tell him dinner will be about 20 minutes, and she finds he's stretched out along the couch, sound asleep. Cap lifts his head from where he's sprawling, purring quietly, on Phil's chest, and she goes over to briefly stroke the cat's head, then she picks up the half empty mug and takes it back out to the kitchen.

Five minute before the food's ready to serve, she goes back into the sitting room and finds him stirring awake. 

"Hey," she says quietly, touching her fingers to his wrist. "Good timing. Dinner's almost ready."

He mumbles something indistinct, then struggles to sit up, so she helps him upright, and he scrubs his right hand over his face. "Sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Don't sweat it," she says earnestly, "you obviously needed the sleep."

"Yeah," he agrees. He pulls a face, then says, "I'm just gonna use the bathroom."

"Sure. Come through when you're ready."

He nods, and Cap leaps down from the couch, then follows her as she makes her way back into the kitchen. Phil joins her a few moments later, and she suspects, from subtle signs, that he's washed his face and cleaned his teeth.

"Something smells good," he observes, and he looks brighter, she thinks.

"Hopefully it'll taste good, too," she says with a smirk, and he smiles back, then seats himself, and she pours them both half a glass of wine, then serves up the food.

"What is this?" he asks, looking curiously into the bowl she's just filled.

"It's a white bean and vegetables bowl with frizzled eggs," she tells him. "My friend Trip taught me how to make it." She chuckles. "He's a health nut."

Phil smiles up at her, then picks up his cutlery as she sets a plate of oven-warmed bread on the table between them.

"Thanks, Daisy."

"Hey, anytime," she says. She doesn't want him to feel it's a big deal, even though she's actually not in the habit of cooking for others. "Dig in before it gets cold."

"Yes ma'am," he says with a low chuckle, sketching a vague salute.

They eat in a companionable silence with the stereo playing in the background. She'd discovered, while cooking, that Phil's music tastes run to a lot of jazz, and while it's not something she's ever listened to regularly, she's found she likes quite a lot of the stuff on his playlist.

After they've emptied their bowls she brings out the obviously home-made apple pie she'd found in the freezer, and serves it with scoops of ice cream. "This is to counter the effects of that really healthy first course," she tells him as she spoons a final scoop of ice cream into his bowl.

He laughs. "I like your style," he says.

She smirks. "Good." 

After they finish eating he makes them some coffee while she loads up the dishwasher, then they retreat to the sitting room.

"Would I be wrong in thinking you don't have a romantic partner?" he asks, his tone cautious.

"You wouldn't," she says, wondering where this is going.

"Can't see why not," he observes, a pink tinge to his cheeks. "You're obviously a nurturing person."

She shrugs. "I've dated a handful of people in the last couple of years, but nothing worked out. I've stayed friends with them, though – so, you know, no bad break ups. Trip, the guy that taught me the recipe we had for dinner? He's dating a med student named Jemma now. For a while I dated a gorgeous Latina woman called Elena, but she's got together with my friend Mack, who's an engineer." She chuckles. "I'm much better at matchmaking for others than making a match for myself."

"Seems a shame," he says.

She shrugs again, slightly uncomfortable about the topic of conversation, given how his last date ended. 

"It was our second date," he says, and she frowns at him for a moment before she realises he's talking about his accident. "The thing was, I'd decided to tell her that I didn't think it was going to work. We were going out to dinner and I was going to break it off with her after we ate – but we didn't even get as far as dinner. As far as the PD have been able to establish from my incomplete recollection of events, and from eyewitness statements, Ros' ex pulled out in front of us at an intersection – someone else was driving – and when we'd gone about a block down the street behind him, he popped up through the sunroof of the car, and shot her. She died instantly from a bullet through the throat, and we were in the evening rush hour so, as you can imagine, it was a pretty bad smash."

Daisy sets her mug down on the coffee table in front of the couch where they're sitting, and turns towards him. She wraps her right hand around his wrist and squeezes gently. "Are you okay?" she asks gently. Part of her wants to tell him he doesn't have to talk about this, but she senses he needs to, and while she's not a trained professional, she can listen.

"Not really," he says, looking as if he might cry at any moment.

She takes his mug from him and sets it beside her own, then shifts so that she's facing him. "If you want to talk, I can listen," she says softly. "If you want to cry, or shout, or scream, I'm not going to judge you."

"Why're you being nice to me?" he asks, his voice thick with emotion.

"I'm a nice person," she says lightly.

"Daisy." He seems to be trembling, so she leans in and carefully wraps her arms around him, and that seems to be all the permission he needs because the next moment he's sobbing, his face buried in the crook of her neck as she holds him close, rubbing one hand up and down his back and across his shoulders.

"It's okay, Phil. It's okay. Let it all out." She repeats this over and over throughout his storm of emotion. Finally his sobs ease off, and he pulls back a bit.

"You're very beautiful," he whispers, then presses his tear-stained face to hers and kisses her clumsily.

She reciprocates only a little – enough to stop him from feeling rejected, but not as passionately as she might have done had he not just had an emotional breakdown on her. Then she eases him back from her and cups his face in both her hands. "I think you should go to bed and get some rest," she tells him gently.

He looks wrecked, she thinks, and helps him up from the couch, then holds his hand as he makes his way into the master bedroom. Cap appears from out of nowhere, and rubs around their ankles, and Daisy scoops him up, then follows Phil into his bedroom.

"Do you need any help?" she asks, careful about how she phrases that question.

He shakes his head. "This – " He lifts his left arm. "means I can manage by myself."

She nods. "I'll leave you to it, then. I'll bring Cap's stuff over in the morning. Well, lunchtime, if that's okay?" She lowers the cat down onto the foot of Phil's bed.

"I'm sorry I kissed you just now," he says, "I – "

"I'm not," she interrupts because he sounds like he's about to start beating himself up or something. She reaches up and cups his cheek. "You're cute." (He pulls a face and she smirks.) "And very fanciable, but you just got out of hospital, and your emotions are all over the place, so let's wait a bit, okay? Get to know each other and take things slow for a little while."

"Okay." He leans in and presses his forehead to hers and she smiles, then wraps her arms around him. 

"Go to bed, Phil, and get some rest. I'll drop by around one, okay?"

"Thank you, Daisy. For everything."

"It's no trouble, Phil, I promise." She pulls back, then presses her mouth briefly to his, before she moves away from him. "I'll see myself out."

He nods, and she glances back at the doorway to see Cap is in his arms and she nods at him, then makes her way out of his apartment.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Over the next few weeks, she sees Phil regularly – they have lunch or dinner together nearly every day, and they talk a lot – about his work (he's a high school teacher of history, and also the school's basketball coach, which explains the muscles), and hers (she runs her own successful computer services firm), about their childhoods (he's from Wisconsin, and so was her father), and also about movies, music, and books. They kiss and cuddle a bit, but Daisy purposefully keeps it light because she doesn't want to feel she's taking advantage of him when he's vulnerable.

At the end of the sixth week, she invites him to go out to dinner with her to meet some of her friends. 

"Is this the orphan equivalent of taking me home to meet the parents?" he asks lightly.

She fake punches his arm: they're making lunch in his kitchen and he's got his sleeves rolled up, and she's been pleased to discover she doesn't find herself constantly staring at his left arm.

"Foolish man," she says. "No, it's not. I usually get together with Trip and Jemma, and Mack and Elena once a month. And it so happens that some other friends of mine, Melinda and Andrew, have just got back from an overseas trip, so they're coming too." She wraps her arms around his torso, sliding her arms below his so he can go on chopping spring onions for the omelette he's making them.

"I think my friends would like you, and that you'd like them, so I'd like you to meet them."

"I'd like to come," he says, and sets the knife down, then turns his head and presses his mouth to hers. She kisses him back, allowing him to open her mouth with his tongue, and as he licks across the roof of her mouth, she feels a surge of desire that's stronger than she's felt with him before.

"Phil," she moans, and slides her right hand down his body to clutch at his ass.

"Daisy." He nips at her bottom lip, then laves the spot with his tongue, and she grips his ass with both hands, pulling his body hard against hers. And she can feel he's hard – or getting there – and she suddenly wonders why they've been taking things slow. She shifts her right hand between their bodies and cups his growing erection through the fabric of his slacks, and he pushes his groin into her hand.

He groans her name, and she grabs his wrist, pulling his hand between her thighs. He steps back, breaking the haze of lust that seems to have engulfed her, and she feels herself flush with embarrassment.

"Hey," he says immediately, and presses his mouth to hers briefly. "It's okay, but I need to wash my hands before I touch you intimately."

"Oh, yeah." Her blush deepens, and he smirks, then moves to the sink to wash and dry his hands.

"Wouldn't you like to move this somewhere else?" he murmurs against her mouth when he returns, and she sighs, then agrees.

He grabs her hand and leads her from the kitchen to his bedroom, and they kick off their shoes, then settle on the bed, still dressed in pants and shirts. He cups her face with his right hand, and she grabs his left wrist and lifts that hand to her face too. 

"You can touch me with this one," she says softly. "I don't mind." He swallows, his eyes looking misty, and she turns her head to press her lips to his left palm. "This is your hand, Phil. Same as this one." She repeats the gesture on his flesh-and-blood hand.

He drops his hands to embrace her, and she hugs him back, feeling his body trembling a little from the intensity of his emotions: this is something she'd noticed very quickly – he makes no effort to hide any of his emotional responses from her, and he seems to feel things very deeply. She doesn't think she's ever met a man who wears his heart on his sleeve as much as Phil Coulson. 

She kisses him, sliding one hand down his back to cup his ass again, then she draws her hand over his hip and reaches down to cup his cock through the fabric of his pants. 

"We don't have to have sex now," she begins.

He cuts her off. "I want to." He swallows, then adds, "If you want to."

She smirks, then begins unbuckling his belt. "I want to." 

He smiles and lets her take charge, which she finds very arousing – the guys she's dated have always wanted to be in control, especially when it came to their first fuck. (With the couple of girls she dated, it was more balanced.) She gets his pants unfastened and insinuates her hand into his underwear, then draws her fingers over the head of his cock, and his body jerks, which makes her smirk. Then she withdraws her hand and concentrates on getting his shirt unbuttoned. He moans when she settles on his thigh, then begins teasing his nipples. She watches his face, and sees only pleasure and desire in his eyes.

She gets him to sit up so she can get the shirt off him, then she begins rocking to and fro, essentially riding his thigh while she unbuttons and removes her own sleeveless shirt. He moans more loudly when she reveals that she's not wearing a bra and his lifts his right hand to cup her breast.

"Use both, Phil," she whispers, and reaches for his left hand. 

His jaw tightens, a muscle jumping in his cheek, but he raises his left hand and she guides it to her other breast. "Tell me if I hurt you," he says. "I don't have as much sensation in this hand."

She nods, then curls her hand over the back of his prosthetic and guides his fingers. As he's fondling her breasts she continues to ride his thigh until she gives herself an orgasm, then she pulls away and stands up quickly to shed her jeans and socks. He groans as he stares at her, and she realises there's a damp spot on the crotch of her lilac panties. He licks his lips, then slips his right hand into his unfastened pants and strokes his cock a couple of times. She kneels on the bed and drags his pants down his legs, exposing his erection: he's bigger than she'd expected, and she can't wait to get him inside her.

She drops their abandoned clothing on the floor by the bed, then she asks, "Do you have –?"

"Nightstand drawer," he tells her, and she gets out the pack of condoms, then takes one out and rolls it onto him.

"You okay with me on top?" she asks, and he gives a sharp nod, so she lowers herself down, moaning softly as she feels herself stretching to accommodate his girth.

"Daisy," he groans as she settles down. He sits up, which surprises her, then kisses her deeply as she begins to rock over him. 

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

A couple of days later, they meet up with Daisy's friends at the usual meeting place: a family-owned, very friendly restaurant called 'Ace's', named for the son of the owner. Mike Peterson was one of the first people Daisy had met after moving her business to New York from LA: she'd designed a new website for his restaurant, and as well as paying her, he'd given her a dinner so good that she's been going back regularly ever since.

Phil seems a little nervous, she thinks, but he's got what she thinks of as his 'game face' on – the one he wears to face down the teens he teaches. She's holding his left hand very firmly in her right (and she'd seen the look of mingled surprise and gratitude he'd given her when she'd grabbed that hand the first time this evening), determined that she won't let him run away.

They arrive first, and she happily introduces Phil to Mike when he comes out personally to greet her and lead them through to the private dining room in the back of the restaurant which she and her friends always take over when they meet up.

"Daisy!" A young male voice cries gladly and she turns just in time as Mike's 8 year old son, Ace, rushes up, and more or less throws himself at her.

"Hey, Ace," she says, grinning as she catches him, then picks him up. "Oof. You're getting too heavy for this mister. You been working out?"

He giggles, and wraps his arms around her neck and his legs around her torso. "Daddy said if I was good, you'd tell me a bedtime story," he says eagerly, and Daisy rolls her eyes at Mike, who smirks unrepentantly.

"If I tell you a story, will you go straight to sleep afterwards, and not come sneaking downstairs to see me?" 

He looks thoughtful for a moment, then grins. "Yeah."

"Okay then." She sets him down on his feet, then asks, "Can Phil come, too?"

Ace looks up at Phil, who gives the boy a smile, and Ace smiles back at him. "Yeah." He offers both of them a hand, and Phil takes it, then they follow him through the staff door and into the living area of the building.

"Looks like someone's a _Star Wars_ fan," Phil observes when Ace leads them into his bedroom. 

"D'you like it?" Ace asks immediately. 

"I do. I was always Princess Leia when we played Star Wars at school."

Daisy chokes back a surprised laugh at this revelation, and he raises his eyebrows at her over Ace's head. 

"I love Finn best," Ace declares.

Phil smiles. "I think I got that," he says solemnly, which makes Daisy grin because Ace's love of _The Force Awakens'_ black lead is very obvious indeed.

Daisy supervises Ace as he changes into his pyjamas, washes his face, and cleans his teeth, then he settles into bed, and she sits crosslegged on the floor in front of his nightstand while Phil perches on the window leg. She watches Phil from the corner of her eye as she begins to tell Ace a story, and sees the embarrassingly adoring way he's looking at her. It does things to her, that expression, but she makes herself concentrate on telling Ace a story.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

They return to the private room in the restaurant to find Daisy's friends have arrived, although Melinda and Andrew are only just taking off their coats, so she knows she hasn't kept them waiting too long.

She introduces Phil to each of them in turn, and he shakes hands and exchanges greetings in a relaxed tone – she thinks their storytelling interlude with Ace has actually helped to dispel his nerves, and she's glad of that.

Mike comes in with Akela, his partner, and starts to take their food orders while Akela hands around their drinks.

They talk, eat and drink, exchanging news and gossip, and Daisy tells the story of how she met Phil via his cat, Cap. Which in turn leads the others to tell their stories of the first time they met Daisy – they all agree Phil's story is best, because who doesn't love a flying cat?

She sees Andrew engage Phil in conversation, and thinks back to her phone call of a few weeks ago: Andrew Garner is a psychiatrist, and he's agreed to take Phil on as a patient, if Phil's interested. She hopes Phil will agree, and that he won't think Daisy's interfering – she just wants to help him because it's obvious to her that he's suffering badly from the effects of his accident and the murder of his date.

When she goes to the bathroom Elena tags along, and smirks when Daisy rolls her eyes at her friend as they're washing their hands afterwards.

"What?" she asks, sounding all innocent.

"You know what," Daisy says. "Just ask."

Elena smirks some more. "So what's he like in bed?"

It's Daisy's turn to smirk now, though she doesn't say anything. "C'mon Elena, you know I don't fuck and tell."

Elena steps into her personal space, and wraps her arms loosely around her neck. "Is he good, though?"

"I've got no complaints," Daisy tells her, and Elena rolls her eyes, then gives her a quick kiss.

"You're too good for this world," Elena says, and this time Daisy rolls her eyes.

"And you and Mack? You're still happy?" It's a bit of a redundant question, Daisy thinks, looking at the way her friend glows. Then a thought strikes her. "You – uh – " 

Elena raises her eyebrows. "I'm what?"

"You're not pregnant, are you?"

Elena gives her a very surprised look. "Six weeks," she says, "but how'd you know that? We weren't going to tell anyone until after the first trimester."

"I won't say anything, promise," Daisy says quickly. "It's just – well, you're kinda glowing, you know, looking all radiant, like they say pregnant women do."

Elena snorts. "You make me sound radioactive, amiguita." 

Daisy laughs, and after a moment Elena does too. "I'm very happy for you both," she tells her, and hugs her, and Elena kisses her briefly on the mouth again.

"Go home with your cortejador, and – "

"Yes, thank you, Elena, I can fill in the rest," Daisy interrupts with a giggle, and Elena laughs too, then they head back to their friends.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Back at Phil's apartment, Daisy wonders if she's overstepped the mark. He's been pensive on the ride home, and she can't tell if he's feeling overwhelmed after meeting so many of her friends, or if he's mad at her for talking to Andrew about him.

Daisy feeds Cap while Phil fiddles around making them coffee. "Are you mad at me?" she asks eventually when Cap's happily tucking into a bowl of his favourite food.

He gives her a surprised look. "Why would I be mad at you?" He sounds genuinely bewildered by the idea and a knot that Daisy hadn't been aware of in her stomach unclenches.

"For siccing Dr Garner, Andrew, onto you."

"Oh Daisy," he says, and reaches out for her. She goes into his arms gladly and sighs happily when he presses his mouth to hers and kisses her deeply. 

"I'm grateful," he tells her. "The staff at the hospital recommended I see a therapist, but I put it off. And kept putting it off."

"I understand," she tells him, and she knows he knows that she does, because she's talked about being sent to see therapists when she was a child and a teen, before she left St Agnes orphanage for good. "Andrew's very good."

"You know that from experience?" Phil asks.

She nods. "I saw him for about 6 weeks after I first moved here from LA. That's how I know him and Melinda. He helped me straighten myself out, and we stayed in touch, then became friends."

He nods, then kisses her again. "Thank you for caring so much about me."

She shrugs, a little embarrassed. "I care about all my friends."

He snorts, and she raises her eyebrows. "Daisy, I'm pretty sure you care about the entire world, not just your friends." He tightens his arms around her. "It's kinda sexy, to tell the truth."

"How sexy?" she asks teasingly.

"Oh, very, very sexy." He slides his hands down her back, and she feels him scoop up the bottom of her dress with one hand while the other cups her ass cheek, kneading her bare flesh (she's only wearing a thong under the dress), and she moans embarrassingly loudly, then again when he slips his hand between her thighs from behind and teases her sex.

"Phil," she gasps, and he grins wickedly, then pushes two fingers into her slick heat and begins to fingerfuck her while he kisses her greedily.

She comes hard and fast, and he withdraws his hand, then turns her around to face the wall, and she moans when she hears his zipper slide down, then again when she feels him pushing into her from behind. 

This is the most adventurous they've been in the past few days since they started fucking, and it gives her a bit of a thrill to know that he's willing to fuck her in less conventional places. She grabs his left wrist and brings his hand down to her sex, and he stills for a moment, then whispers "Sure?" against her ear.

"Yes," she breathes, and he begins stroking her clit with his prosthetic hand while he fucks her against the wall and she gasps and moans, pressing her body more firmly back against his until she comes with a cry, and then he's coming too.

They grab their coffees and take them through into the bedroom, then share a quick shower together, before settling in Phil's bed. The coffee's no longer as hot, but Daisy doesn't care: it's been the best evening she's had in a long time, and she's very grateful for that. She doesn't think she's ever had a cat play matchmaker, before, but she reminds herself to thank Cap properly tomorrow.


End file.
